. . . . . she's a growin' up. It seems like overnight that she openly, up front declared her independence.
She takes me by the hand when she's hungry and leads me to the pantry. She will ask for her "joose" instead of waiting for it to arrive. She is wanting less and less help at meal time ~ or snack time.
"If I could put time in a bottle. . . . ."
She's been using her fork for pancakes for a while. She's got the "stab" down pretty well. She won't however eat her sandwich by herself ~ too squishy.
Now, all of a sudden, she won't let me help her with the muffin ~ nope ~ had to do it herself ~ well, of course she's old enough ~ but she can't stand the feel of "squishy" in her hands ~ remember? But, alas, here she is. All's well initially ~ until most of the muffin consists of the squishy insides ~ then it becomes play dough. And she wants to pick the crumbs up and have me throw them away, or she realizes there's chocolate smeared on her hands, or her fingers have become slimy from the bananas and all the squishing she's doing and it begins to annoy her. And of course, we will have none of this "let me help you eat it" stuff. She'd rather abandon all efforts and go find something else to do ~ which is exactly what she did. Hmmm . . . . I say. . . . . . . what's a Mom-mom to do?
~ Baby Girl ~ Heart Breaker ~ Dream Maker ~ Smile Maker ~ God's Precious Gift ~
